


Bound Rencounter

by CraniumCulverin



Series: Ripper!AU [2]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Original Character(s), Other, Other's OCs, Ripper!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 07:56:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18339413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CraniumCulverin/pseuds/CraniumCulverin
Summary: Alfred happens across an old acquaintance and decides to reintroduce himself.





	Bound Rencounter

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of a sorta-prologue to a story I've been sorting out for a while now, based on donc-desole's Ripper!AU art (links to her twitter and artwork on tumblr in the series description). Percival Hewlett is also Des' OC, and has his own slew of amazing artwork from Des. I liked him so much he became one of the three primary characters lol.  
> Description of this AU is in the series notes. Originally posted on my tumblr.

The breeze is pleasant and the air remarkably clear on this Autumn afternoon in Yharnam. The constant cloud cover that accompanies the season is missing, leaving the sun free to warm the brick and stone of the city, along with the multitudes of people enjoying the respite from New Pthumeria’s typically gloomy weather. Here and there along the main avenues, where streets branch off into the more residential areas, conversations can be heard, and the occasional sound of instruments or boisterous laughter from the locals’ rarely-opened windows. Such a beautiful day was not to be ignored in the valley-bound capitol, especially with the ever-daunting Winter just around the corner.

Despite the out-of-place cheeriness all around, Alfred is in a downright foul mood. As he walks through crowds and down bustling streets his focus is entirely elsewhere, ignorant of how nice the weather is or friendly the faces are. No, his mind is still back at the University, in the meeting he’s just come from.

 _“ **Why** I’m even required to attend any of Byrgenwerth’s administrative functions is **beyond** me - I rarely ever have anything to add to the proceedings, and rarer still are the times I’m asked to share if I do! I’m just another **student** more than anything, not some official!”_ If his unnecessary inclusion were due to anything he’d hazard a guess it has to do with his late mentor’s status, what with how highly revered his work and contributions still are to the Healing Church, and thus Byrgenwerth University. As proud as he is to be the great man’s last and only living protégé, the status has certainly brought on… unexpected expectations from his new peers and superiors. And _far_ too many questions.

Alfred scowls and grips his cane even tighter as he mulls over the Professor of Theology’s most recent salvo of disparaging remarks and sly insinuations. Since the very first day he’d been introduced to the department head, the shriveled old coot has had it out for him. A pompous, rigid gaffer born into both his money and position, with nary a lick of work put in to get him where he is - and he has the gall to ridicule Alfred’s work, offhandedly or not!

So what if his dissertation is taking longer than their arbitrary time limits - lulls in productivity affect every great work in progress! Regardless of how old you are, or who your mentor was, or how long you’ve _technically_ been attending! Everyone is prone to a block from time to time! And his topic of study is _not_ a pointless cause! As if it wasn’t bad enough that the Professor and a few other Byrgenwerth fellows have taken to belittling Alfred, they’re also incredibly _nosy_. Every time he’s forced to attend some event or meeting the questions come, every one of his answers scrutinized and dissected. Why can’t they just take him for what he’s been proven to be? Why can’t they just accept him as what he is _now_ instead of seek out what he once _was_? It’s all so damn infuriating! If not for having to finish this bloody doctorate by _their_ rules, he’d have given those bastards what for ages ago!

Pausing his brisk pace near an overlook, Alfred realizes he’s letting himself get riled up again. With a harsh sigh he decides to take a break to calm himself down before unnatural thoughts start creeping in. That’s always been a problem for him, ever since he was young; anger boiling over into something truly… disagreeable.

He steps off the path to lean against the warm stone of the balustrade, only now noticing the rarity of the day’s direct sunlight. Looking down on the buildings and streets below helps him to calm and refocus, the comings and goings of the city’s denizens a welcome distraction. After a while Alfred sighs again as the last of his tension dissipates, this time almost wistful in nature. It used to be so much easier to keep from falling into such negative lines of thought. When there was always something to be doing, somewhere they had to go, people to be met, knowledge to be shared…

He promptly pushes away from the edge and continues walking. No need to dwell on the past in such a melancholic fashion - it does nothing and no one any good. And the acceptable time for mourning is passed.

Alfred’s fumbling to find a new topic to ponder is cut short as he rounds the next corner. Mid-stride, he manages to quickly sidestep just in time to avoid a gaggle of screaming children as they bound up the sloping street, cheering and ordering each other on. Watching them go with a frown, he just catches sight of a little mongrel as it tears away from the rowdy bunch and down an adjacent alley. As they disappear his annoyance is replaced with amusement, the idea of such a tiny mutt evading so many tenacious hands drawing a chuckle out of him. His expression slowly shifts the longer he looks back. Brows knitting together, he turns in the direction he’d been going to take in the buildings and businesses around him. The frown slowly returns the longer he takes in his surroundings. Nothing here is familiar.

He hasn’t a clue where he is.

His frown turns to a scowl as he steps and weaves through the crowded area to search the skyline. His target is quickly found - the enormous Astral Clocktower, his and just about everyone else’s go-to landmark when trying to navigate the bizarre city. Alfred curses under his breath. It wasn’t at an angle or distance he’s used to seeing - which means he’s nowhere _near_ the district he was supposed to be headed! And if the tower’s time is to be trusted, he’s been walking for _hours_! Anger wells up, hot and tempting as Alfred curses even louder, causing a couple passersby to nervously glance his way. With a harsh exhale that sounds more like a snarl he swiftly stifles it, eyes closing as he tries to reason with his temper.

There’s only himself to blame for such a stupid mistake, and it was his own damn anger that caused him to get lost in the first place! Getting angrier will just make things worse, like usual. Besides, this is a chance to explore new territory, something he wouldn’t have done otherwise - at least while there’s daylight. Maybe he’ll find a shorter way to get to and from the gate he must take to reach Byrgenwerth, cut down on the time he has to dedicate to those blowhards. Plus it’s not like he has anywhere to be for the rest of the day - his dear Siegward has gone much longer than this without a walk, and is too well-trained to make a mess indoors. In fact, an unplanned walk on a lovely day might be _exactly_ what he needs to loosen his persistent writer’s block! The hands of fate have changed his path in greater ways before, with _far_ worse situations than this!

With that Alfred smiles and opens his eyes, ready to continue his jaunt now that the urge to hit something is gone. He looks up and down the street before heading for the nearest corner, eager to put a name to wherever he is. It’s definitely a more business-oriented area as there’s plenty of glass-fronts with displays and placards denoting different services, but with how many people are loitering there must be housing very close by. Many of the buildings are of the New Pthumerian style, the ornamentation and stonework as distinct as any Pthumerian handiwork. Most bear the scars and scorch marks to prove they’ve stood since prewar. Other buildings are obviously newer being of a plainer European or English style, while a few scattered lots are still in the midst of being rebuilt or renovated.

Turning down another street, Alfred notes both sides are lined with uniform New Pthumerian terraces, roofs like stairsteps as they follow the curving, slanting street. The paths aren’t nearly as busy as on the last stretch, and as he peruses the various forms of signage he sees why - most of these appear to be private offices. A good deal of them look to have been at least partially rebuilt or repaired, as many of the roofs and windows are noticeably newer. Likely whatever fire or barrage that took the other buildings stopped before it could finish these off.

Alfred shakes his head at the thought of so much being lost for such ridiculous reasons. _“The sick people would’ve died anyway - why let so much of historic worth be destroyed in the process? There may have once even been a library or museum with records of the Old Pthumerian religion, destroyed as if it were some plague-ridden hovel! What a terrible waste…”_

Coming to the end of the street Alfred turns his mind to figuring out which avenue he’s about to enter, when something in his periphery grabs his attention. His pace slows considerably until he comes to a halt at the corner, now a ways beyond his new focus. Above the doorway of the end terrace hangs a bracket sign, much like many others along this street, except that it’s an eye-catching off-white instead of the usual black or brown. Even from across the street every word is legible, the large, neat letters painted in a deep Prussian blue. There’s an English surname at the top, which isn’t uncommon to see nowadays in the capitol, but it’s the familiarity of it that has Alfred lingering.

Hewlett Private Practice.

 _“Surely it’s- it couldn’t be… There’s plenty of outsiders in Yharnam, it could be someone else entirely…”_ Alfred worries his bottom lip as he stares, people and the occasional cart milling between he and his conundrum. _“But he **did** say Yharnam… and it **is** a private practice, with **that** name. It must be Percy…Well, good! Did what he set out to do and… and did it well, by the looks of it! Good for him!”_ He firmly nods as if in conclusion before turning away to continue along the busy avenue. A scant distance from where he’d stood he suddenly stops, wringing at the head of his cane as he starts worrying his lower lip again. _“Would he… I wonder… It’s been years since we saw one another, and so much is different now…”_

Looking back, Alfred finds himself unsure of what to do. He’d _like_ to go visit his old acquaintance, but what he _needs_ is to maintain as much distance from his past as possible. The doctor only knows him as a man that, for all intents and purposes, no longer exists - a past life those Byrgenwerth bastards would gleefully use to destroy his current one. To reintroduce himself would be terribly unwise. However…

Alfred’s been rather lonely since his move to the city. Though he’d never trade in the life his late mentor afforded him, he has to admit it’s become less than ideal as of late; between his superiors’ barely disguised aggression and the persistent lull in his work since arriving, living in Yharnam hasn’t been the most pleasant experience thus far. Someone he knows he could trust would make everything so much more tolerable… And who better to put his trust in than someone that saved his life? _“What was it the old man used to say? A wise decision doesn’t mean it’s a good decision, a foolish decision isn’t always a bad decision… It went something like that…”_

His mind made up, Alfred turns and makes his way back to the end terrace, a giddy smile on his face despite himself. As he comes to the entrance he pauses as a woman exits, tipping his hat with a small bow as she passes. With a quick glance up at the sign to solidify his resolve, and then through a curtained window to no avail, he enters the doctor’s office. Immediately behind the door are a few steps down, leading to another door which opens to a small landing that gives him an elevated view of a surprisingly light and airy space.

Directly below and in front of him sitting at a tidy desk is one Dr. Percival Hewlett, his features hidden as he looks down, intent on his writing. The physician must have heard him on his way in, as he glances over his spectacles before continuing his paperwork. “My apologies sir, but office hours are over for the day. If you’re able to come back tomorrow, I’ve plenty of times available to schedule an appointment.”

Alfred’s smile broadens as he hears the familiar baritone voice after so many years. With a flourish he whips off his hat in one hand, and with his cane in the other holds them aloft at his sides as he practically shouts, “ _Percy!_ ”

The other’s head snaps up in response, one eyebrow dangerously quirked. His expression of perplexed annoyance quickly shifts to one of scrutiny as he takes in his visitor. Silence hangs between them as the moment lasts a beat too long, but then the doctor’s features soften into bewilderment as he slowly sets aside his pen. “…Alfred…?”

A hearty laugh erupts from the blond before he swiftly takes the stairs down, utterly delighted to be remembered and amused at the other’s shock. “Percy, my good man! It’s been _so_ very long!”

“…Yes it has,” Percy says rather absentmindedly, removing his lenses as he stands to come around the desk, “my word, I hardly recognize you!”

Another bout of jubilant laughter escapes Alfred as he leaves his effects on a chair and comes to stand before the shorter man, immediately raising his arms to draw him into a hug. Just as the doctor stiffens he remembers himself and pulls back, instead extending a hand in proper greeting. The tension in Percy’s shoulders evaporates on accepting the firm handshake, further relieved when all the younger man does beyond shaking is to place his other hand atop his own. On noticing how ecstatic Alfred is to see him he can’t help but break into a smile as well. “Goodness - how have you been?”

The blond can hardly contain himself as he shakes with renewed vigor. “Very well, Percy - _very_ well!”

“I can see that!” Percy chuckles as he places his other hand atop Alfred’s before gently pulling away. He gives him another subtle once over. “You’ve certainly done well for yourself, haven’t you! I must admit I’m surprised to see you here, let alone in such fine attire and with- ah…”

The blond shakes his head, grinning at the other’s discretion. “A tolerable sense of propriety? Even a _hint_ of gentility? I can’t blame you at all - I’m a very different man from last we met!” They both laugh, the doctor more out of relief.

“What happened to bring about this change, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Alfred’s mind flies into a flurry of possible explanations, none of which feel adequate. With a grin, he settles on giving the simplest for now. “I met a most amazing man that took me on as his assistant. I owe him everything, truly. But what of you Percy, how have you been? You’ve followed through on your plans, I see! How goes the practice?”

The physician’s head tilts slightly at the vague answer, but his smile only wanes when questioned. “You’ve a good memory - I have gotten my practice established here, yes. Sadly I’ve not as many patients as I did back in England, but I suppose that’s to be expected with such a large number of practitioners all in one city… I’ve decided to see it as more time to dedicate to my research, rather than a hindrance.”

“Mmm, I suspect you’ve received the same sort of _hospitality_ that many others have from the locals - cold shoulder and then some toward any ‘outsiders,’ from what I’ve gleaned,” says Alfred, frowning for the first time since entering the office. “I’m lucky to apparently look quite like a native from the countryside, so I haven’t suffered as much. Let me guess - most of your clientele are foreigners and not Yharnamites?”

Percy sighs wistfully. “You’ve guessed correctly. I’d hoped at first it was simply my being new in town, but the longer I’m here the more I see otherwise. I can comprehend the sentiment behind their actions, what with recent history, but it’s still such a silly way to express their contempt. Ill-conceived and shortsighted, if nothing else.”

“And bothersome.”

“Ha! Yes, that too…”

Now that his excitement has abated, Alfred is settled enough to really take a look at his old acquaintance. His silver-white hair is of the same style and cut, now perhaps a tad more white than silver. If the passage of time has touched him at all beyond that, it’s with wrinkles too well hidden by his wry grin to be seen. In fact, there’s barely any evidence of the years since they met! What is evident, however, is the sense of weariness Percy exudes - different from if it were just the end of his shift, or if today had been taxing. It’s more the sort of weariness Alfred has been feeling as of late; the sort that lingers, builds up over a long period thanks to constant hardship and dissatisfaction. Perhaps he’s putting too much emphasis on what the doctor had said about lacking patients - and thus funds - or their shared but slightly different troubles with the prejudiced locals. Maybe he’s simply reading too much into a tired man’s manner…

Whatever it is that’s different about him, it doesn’t suit Percy in the slightest. Alfred comes to a decision suddenly as the doctor shifts to lean against the desk - one he’s sure is both wise _and_ good. He leisurely makes his way back toward the stairs and nearby chair. “Well Dr. Hewlett, with your office hours over, I shan’t keep you any longer than I already have.”

Percy looks up from the papers he’d begun to straighten, more curious than surprised. “So soon? Here I thought you’d want to catch up, extrapolate on all that’s happened!”

“Oh-ho I most certainly do! But I don’t want to keep you from your off-hours. Perhaps tomorrow we can talk, following my appointment? I know of the most delightful bakery… _some_ where close by. I think. How about I bring something along for us to enjoy during our chat?” As Alfred turns from retrieving his hat and cane he catches a glimpse of a rather wide-eyed Dr. Hewlett. He swiftly regains composure, clearing his throat and pulling out a pocket journal as he dons his spectacles, utterly nonchalant. “You’d like to schedule for an appointment? Is there something ailing you?”

“Yes - and no, not really. It’s just, despite having the funds and being in a city full of practitioners, I find I’ve neglected to find myself a personal physician. Irresponsible, I know…”

When Alfred looks up from fiddling with the brim of his hat he’s greeted by a knowing smirk from the physician, a touch warmer than he ever recalls seeing. The taller man quickly looks away and masks his own grin by donning his hat. A hum comes from Percy as he looks through his schedule. “If it’s an appointment to get you established… How does eleven o'clock sound? By the time we’re done and the paperwork dealt with, it’ll be about the time I close for lunch anyway. You may stay for that time.”

“Wonderful, that works splendidly!” Alfred beams down as he ascends the stairs. He stops on the landing to lean against the rail, meeting the doctor’s eye as he peers down. “I’m so glad I’ve found you again, Dr. Hewlett. A friendly and familiar face is _just_ what I’ve been needing. Truly fateful!”

A chuckle floats up from the older man. “Fortuitous indeed, Alfred.”

“Right - tomorrow at eleven! I look forward to it! Goodbye Dr. Hewlett!”

With that Alfred ascends the remaining stairs and is beyond the inner door in a heartbeat. As the outer door shuts behind him, the physician remains leaning against the desk, lost in thought as he looks up at where the blond had stood. Another chuckle escapes him, shaking his head as he moves around to his chair. Pulling out a blank file for his newly returned patient, he can’t help but smirk to himself. “…Fateful indeed…”


End file.
